


shout at the wall ('cause the walls don't fucking love you)

by far2late



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: ADHD struggles, Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Bonding, Childhood Trauma, Clay | Dream & Dave | Technoblade Friendship, Cute Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), De-Aged Character(s), Family Feels, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Having A Bad Time, Homelessness, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Protective Technoblade, The Nether (Minecraft), Trauma, Violence, dream is a fourteen year old, no beta i never beta ever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:20:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27094186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/far2late/pseuds/far2late
Summary: "There wasn’t much of his youth that he could remember, really. The majority of his life had been underground rings of fighting and blood, running through forests and jumping through trees and scaling mountains to stay alive against the very slim odds. It was only a miracle that he made it through his early years of life. Once he hit double digits, it was easy enough to start trying to learn his way around the terrain, as depressing as that implicated.There was a point in time when he was warm and well-fed, for the span of a week. He had hidden in the loft of a barn, eyes wandering over the fields through wooden planks and spotting a father and his child, laughing and happy as they shared their days farming and milking an old cow spotted brown and white. It was one of the only times Dream had longed for something simple and easy, to stop running for a while and simply rely on someone. It would’ve been so easy to go up to the man and ask for help, maybe a loaf of bread and a real warm bed to rest in.He left the next day. It wasn’t worth staying any longer."orfourteen-year-old dream stumbles into technoblade's life after seven years on his own. this changes things
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Dave | Technoblade, Clay | Dream & Everyone, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Dave | Technoblade & Everyone
Comments: 84
Kudos: 725





	1. Chapter 1

Rocks clattered and fell over unforgiving cliffs staggeringly as the young teen climbing made his way through the rough terrain, panting lightly. He used the diamond axe slung by his side to climb up the sloughs of netherrack, swinging the tool to implant into the wall solidly and pulling himself up the rocky cliffs. 

The black t-shirt he had been wearing was getting heavy on his skin, sweat clinging to him with a vengeance. Dream had long since given up on wiping his forehead clean, his only objective to get to the closest Nether Portal he could find on short notice. It was much easier said than done, countless hours spent in the hellscape could attest to that. 

The way the Nether had been made was terrifying in the sense that there was no open-air anywhere. In the Overworld, the sky was endless and even caves had a way out to the surface, but the Nether was simply mountains of rocky hellfire and mobs and danger for ages, no way to the surface and barely any safety. Even man-made buildings had been a danger, absolutely infested with blazes and withers, sometimes piglins as well. Ghasts were just a pain, barely avoidable unless you had a shield. 

Dream. however, had particularly bad luck when it came to the Nether. He had made his way into the hellscape once or twice, sneaking in through community portals in the Overworld in the night to cover ground faster. It didn’t really make sense to him, but street smarts were more his thing, only really accounting for math when it came to how to best utilize his strengths to survive. 

His last few endeavours in the Nether had been stressful, to say the least. He had, at one point, been cornered by a blaze and a ghast simultaneously, managing to get away off the skin of his teeth and a well-placed hit from his axe, which had been an iron axe back then. It was a miracle he made it through in the first place. Another one of his trips had ended with him dive-bombing the portal after he had managed to piss off a player by accidentally trampling a couple of vials of ghast tears he had been collecting. He wasn’t even sure how he managed that one, but it was a little funny after he had gotten away. 

This time, however, Piglins had been chasing the teen for the past half-hour of his plight in the Nether, after Dream had slipped up and found himself in the Bastions, which was not very good at all, in his opinion. A crossbow to the foot and a swing at his face later, and he was stumbling away as fast as he could, backpack bouncing against his back rhythmically. 

Dream wasn’t quite sure where he was, to be honest. He just knew that there was a Nether portal somewhere near him, through squinting at his compass through green hair and blood dripping from his eyebrow into his eyelashes. It was a gross feeling, but he didn’t want to stop to wipe it away just yet. The paranoia of the hellscape won out as opposed to stopping for a break. 

“Fuck,” Dream muttered under his breath as his diamond axe came lose mid-climb, stumbling down the small hill he had scaled. He hissed at the way his hands scraped against the rock, but it was mostly superficial. His hands were already torn to shreds, calloused and bloody compared to how soft they were in his limited youth. 

There wasn’t much of his youth that he could remember, really. The majority of his life had been underground rings of fighting and blood, running through forests and jumping through trees and scaling mountains to stay alive against the very slim odds. It was only a miracle that he made it through his early years of life. Once he hit double digits, it was easy enough to start trying to learn his way around the terrain, as depressing as that implicated. 

There was a point in time when he was warm and well-fed, for the span of a week. He had hidden in the loft of a barn, eyes wandering over the fields through wooden planks and spotting a father and his child, laughing and happy as they shared their days farming and milking an old cow spotted brown and white. It was one of the only times Dream had longed for something simple and easy, to stop running for a while and simply rely on someone. It would’ve been so easy to go up to the man and ask for help, maybe a loaf of bread and a real warm bed to rest in. 

He left the next day. It wasn’t worth staying any longer. 

Dream snapped back into reality when he heard a snort while moving through the red wart trees of the Red biome. His eyes narrowed, grip on his axe tightening as he crouched down slightly, footsteps slow as he made his way through the biome, tucking his keychain back into his backpack out of fear of it alerting his presence to others. He heard another snort from his left, suddenly much louder and pivoted on his heel to come face-to-face with a Hoglin, eyes widening. 

“Shit!” He gasped, swinging his axe at the face of the ugly beast before scrambling to grab onto vines, shrieking once its tusk jabbed at his legs. Dream tugged at the piece of fabric that got snagged onto the tusks, the horn piercing his skin and ripping through it jaggedly. He cried out, pulling his leg back and dragging himself up to the top of the nether wart tree, wiping back tears that had started spilling out of habit. 

He looked back down at the bottom of the tree, the Hoglin angry as he shakily took off his backpack, hesitant to roll up his pant leg. Despite how long he had been on his own, any fourteen-year-old would be hesitant to stare at their own mauled leg. The blood loss would make him woozy eventually, though, so it was best to deal with it before he could barely feel his hands and his eyes would be drooping. He pulled the makeshift medkit out of his bag, which consisted of a very old potion of healing, a large sum of stolen bandages, and a basic sewing kit that was very rarely used. 

Dream rolled up his pant leg carefully where he was sitting, wincing as he saw the messy wound and squinting away, not wanting to look at it. He debated using his healing potion, but there had to be some much more life-threatening injury that it could be saved for. Maybe it was just his hoarding tendencies coming through, but he really didn’t want to use it for something like a sliced leg. 

He had the potion in his care for a couple of months now, buying it after saving up all his money since he was twelve. It was far more expensive than he expected, and two years worth of stolen coins almost wasn’t enough, but he managed to get everything he needed eventually. He couldn’t really say he felt bad about it, either, as most of the people he did end up stealing from didn’t even notice it at the end of the day.

He wasn’t given a choice in the end, as halfway through taping his leg back up, the tree shook with a sudden force, jostling the wound and making him wince in pain. Dream looked down again, this time to see the Hoglin from earlier headbutting the tree _hard._ He hissed in pain, hastily tying the bandages up and scrambling up, hesitating to put weight on his leg. 

The tree shook again, rattling debris off of the branches as the Hoglin continued butting the tree. Dream couldn’t hold back the scared noise that escaped him, letting go of his pride for a moment, considering there was no one around that could see his fear. He looked around for a moment, backpack back over his shoulders as he prepared to jump over to the next tree. 

And as soon as he made the jump, he knew he made a mistake. 

His foot had slipped at the last moment, leaving him about an inch short from where he needed to land. Dream hit his chin harshly on the rocky ground below, sending stars into his vision and pain shooting up his jaw with a cry. Dream shook it off, wiping at the tears with his free hand as he stumbled up and tried to run as fast as he could from the Hoglin behind him. 

The terror that had filled his mind was almost overwhelming, almost choking him as he ran, catching sight of familiar violet swirling mist far off in his vision, through the ploughs of red trees. Dream felt a flicker of hope before picking up speed, wincing as his leg ached. 

Almost fifty meters from the portal, his feet went out from under him, leaving him stumbling to the ground once more, ankle rolled under him. Dream hissed in pain, using one arm to push himself up and shifting his leg slightly, crying out as it brushed another jagged stone. There was no doubt in his mind that he had torn through the roughly-done bandages, rubbing tears out of his eyes. 

Dream braced himself and dug his axe into the ground, shoving himself up and forcing himself to walk to the portal through hazy vision. He used his axe as a makeshift crutch, limping over to the portal as blood trailed behind him, dripping down his black pants and dotting the ground. All he knew was that as soon as he made his way through the portal, he would be safe. 

What he didn’t account for was actually a number of things. For one, he probably should’ve read the signs around the portal. For two, it probably would’ve been a good idea to take into account that any place this secluded would probably be hidden for a reason. And lastly, he should really have taken into account he would have had no idea where the portal actually _led._

This is why it really shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise when he ended up passing out the moment he stepped through the portal, eyes sliding shut as he fell to the ground with a thump. 


	2. Chapter 2

Dream awoke slowly, fading into consciousness with eyelashes that were clumped together by tears and perspiration. He blinked slowly, eyes sore against the light that flooded his vision and muscles sore from whatever he had been doing before he passed out. His hands were resting over his chest, blanket pulled overtop his body and up to his shoulders. 

The first thing that registered was the warmth that had enveloped him, leaving him to sit up from where he had been laying almost immediately, eyes shooting open as though he had just been given an electric shock.

His first impression of the room he had been put in was that it had to have been something out of a storybook; The walls were small and the ceiling modest, made of simple wood planks that had been fortified with plants and vines curling over the lip of the walls. The wood was darkened, looking as though it had been stained a darker colour than harvested as spruce or dark oak. The bits of light that had flooded through the gaps in the wall fell over him in mottled patterns, leaving him with amusing lines of light that fell upon his black shirt. He could even hear birds chirping through the walls like it was a fairytale out of the Archives. 

  
His gaze swung over the rest of the small room, feeling slightly compressed in the corner. There was a small desk adjacent to him, made of wood similarly, though it was much more polished. A small lantern rested on the desk by the left side, pressed by the wall. It was unlit, smoke curling off of the wick very faintly. Someone must have been there a little earlier, Dream concluded. There was a pair of boots left at the door, and it took a moment for him to recognize them as his.

Dream frowned in confusion; where was he?

The steps he had to take to go through his memory of the day before were slow and stumbling. He remembered his excursion to the nether after getting chased out of yet another village for stealing their crops and iron for himself. The remainder of his journey in the nether was foggy, he never really recalled what happened in that hellscape as well as the adults did. Something about magic clogging up the senses and making everything heavy and hurting. He faintly recalled stumbling into a nether portal before passing out. His eyes widened after a moment as he pulled his leg up to his chest, yanking his pant leg back to check on his leg. 

It was cleaned, bandaged professionally. The blood that had been leaking out of the wound, through his shaky hands and bandages had seemed to be a distant memory in the face of this. Dream shook his head incredulously, sparing a moment to look around the room once more. 

“Where the hell am I,” He mumbled to himself, swinging his legs over the side of the bed as he looked around the room as though he were searching for something. Dream stopped, taking a moment to organize his line of thinking and remember what was most important. He took a deep breath, standing up from the bed and gingerly putting pressure on his injured leg. He resolved to keep pressure off of it as he felt it burn for a moment. 

_ He… He needed his things. That was most important right now.  _ Dream nodded to himself. He could just get his things and get the fuck out of wherever he had ended up. The idea that he had stumbled into a kind stranger’s home had him more unsettled than it was relieving. There was always a catch to these things, no matter how much he thought he could trust the person on the other end of whatever deal he struck. Whether it was farming for hours only to get booted from the property when he was promised a place to sleep, or being kicked out at nightfall after a modest meal of bread and water, there was little trust that he could implant into anyone besides himself. 

Dream shook his head once, blinking again as he hobbled forward, one hand across his stomach protectively, hand bunched into his shirt as the other balanced him on the wall. The walk wasn’t all that hard to make; he knew he had the resources to get himself a staff should he need one. It certainly wouldn’t be anywhere near as pretty as the ones that he had seen with royals and noblemen that had dotted the streets on rare occasions he had passed through large cities with what was on his back. He wouldn’t mind hacking away at a branch to make himself a crudely carved staff. 

He stood up straighter at the realization that he didn’t have his axe on him and sped up his pace. 

When the door was pushed open, Dream peeked out the sliver of space he had allowed himself to look through. The decor of the hallway was similar to the room, though the plants hung from the ceiling in small bowls and the walls had picture frames nailed to them. He didn’t acknowledge them, looking through the gap in between the door and door frame to try and spot the owner of the home. 

No one had come, and the house was still. Dream breathed in quietly, swinging open the door all the way after he had stepped into his boots. It hurt his leg slightly since the cut had stretched from his knee to his ankle, almost slicing the entire limb in two. It certainly hadn’t felt like that when he had gotten injured in the nether, so it certainly was surprising to see just how much area the bandages had covered.

The boots made it considerably harder to sneak into the hallway, making barely noticeable sounds as he scolded himself, screeching in his mind for making the slightest bit of noise at a time where he felt so jumpy. 

As he stepped into the living room, he could feel himself relax a little. The home was still empty; the owner seemed to have been out and about, leaving him to rest after taping him back up. Dream felt a little guilty for trying to leave so quickly, but it was a given that he couldn’t stay here. The poor stranger who had found him would grow tired of him incredibly fast, whether they wanted to or not. 

The room was different, the windows larger in the area. They were covered by pale green curtains, staining the light a soft green. Upon further examination, the curtains were patterned with dandelion seeds. Soft white carpet that had seemed hand-woven rested on the floor, contrasting mahogany floors neatly. There were no couches, only large bean-bag-like chairs that had been set around two adjacent sides of the carpet, dark in colour. The walls had been dotted with an odd assortment of clocks, ranging from a cuckoo clock to a small wooden one that seemed shoddily carved. 

A bit further off, in a small section away from the living room was the dining room, which had looked a little lonely, strangely enough. 

There was only one chair, though the table was big enough to seat at least six people in a tight squeeze. Dream wasn’t sure what the feeling that enveloped his chest was, only that he didn’t want to think about it any longer. There was a quaint kitchen only a couple of feet from the table, a small furnace and a matching freezer stood right next to it. The countertops were smooth, polished stone. It looked new or barely used. 

There were more plants in the area, of course, though these seemed to be cacti in comparison to the wild vines that had seemingly invaded the room Dream had awoken in. The cottage was neat, and a little magical. Dream didn’t know the exact feeling that people usually had in auras besides that of the nether; which was heavy and dark and confusing; but he could guess that there was something familiar and comforting in the magic woven into the walls that almost made him not want to leave. 

Almost. 

Finally, Dream had spotted his familiar backpack, dirty and slightly torn as it had been for the majority of his time in the wild. He could see where the keychain he had been given was tucked into the front pocket and felt a breath of relief go through him. His weapon, however, was nowhere to be found. 

He sighed quietly, regretting it immediately as he swung the bag over his shoulder soundlessly.  _ Maybe it was outside somewhere, _ Dream thought helplessly. The thought of venturing further into the deep dark parts of the world to find the materials for a new axe was something he wasn’t looking forward to. He couldn’t help but mourn the weapon, too. It was one of the only steady presences in his life at this point. 

Everything was incredibly temporary, that was something Dream had learned quickly. He had learned it after he was forced to run after he had lost his first cat after he nearly died in the nether for the first time. Ever since he had started running, there were two things that he could rely on besides himself, two things he knew that could never double-cross him or hurt him intentionally; his axe and the keychain he kept on his backpack. 

The diamond axe was with him so long that he didn’t even remember which mining trip it was that he had first found the diamonds for it from. It was years old, about half his age. It was only due to anvils and the kindness that he encountered once in a blue moon, whether it be through luck or people, that he had been able to continuously repair the tool for himself, keeping it close to him and never letting it out of his sight. 

Till now, of course. 

Dream was tempted to stay behind if only to ask the stranger where his axe was, or deck them and find it himself through a couple of threats. The second didn’t seem as likely if he was being honest with himself, but it was funny to think about either way. The thought of it had him snorting quietly; him, fourteen and unarmed, threatening the only person who had looked to care about him in the past decade. 

It wasn’t that funny anymore, he decided absently. 

He stepped forward to leave, going over to the front door that had been on the opposing side of the green dandelion curtains. Dream pushed the door after undoing the locks, opening it to face who he assumed was the stranger who had taken him in.

Upon first look, he seemed pretty normal. His attire was the same as any simple farmer, a white dress shirt-esque button-up that had been rolled up to his elbows, a pair of dark brown overalls over top. He had a simple hat on as well, looking as though it were a baseball cap with hair tucked under carefully. The man had a basket in his arms, looking to be potatoes, though they were dirt-covered, which Dream assumed meant recently farmed. 

He and the man stared at each other before he moved forward, Dream moving back primarily out of habit to get out of his way. 

“Good to see you’re awake,” The man said simply, moving past him to set the basket on the counter in the kitchen. Dream felt a wave of confusion fill him as he watched the man brush off his hands and run them under the water in the sink. The water running was one of the only sounds in the empty house, accentuated with the birds chirping in the back. The stranger hummed quietly to himself, barely audible if it hadn’t been mostly silent. 

He turned back to Dream, who was still standing at the front door, which was slightly ajar. The man raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the table. 

“Would you like to stay for lunch?” 

It would be incredibly easy for him to walk out the door and never see the man or his odd house again, leaving it to become yet another distant memory in his mind that he would look back on in a couple of decades. 

(If he lived that long.) 

He was still missing his axe, though. Dream looked at the door and then back at the stranger. He clenched his jaw and slowly took off his boots, setting them by the front door. The man didn’t acknowledge his movement, continuing to cut up lettuce on his countertop as Dream warily made his way over to the table, standing by it awkwardly. He hadn’t wanted to take the only seat there, simply out of common courtesy. 

Dream moved back from the table as the man brought over two plates, both with matching sandwiches set atop them. He set one of the plates in front of the chair and one opposite it, leaving the room and going into the backyard to come back with a crudely made chair, looking homemade. 

He set the chair down, took a seat in it, and began to eat his sandwich. 

Dream watched him for a moment and sat down slowly, eyes locked on the man almost the entire time. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything, simply continuing his meal. Dream picked at his food absently, picking the sandwich up to take a bite after a moment. 

It was one of the best things he had in a long time, and taking a bite had let out a ravenous hunger he hadn’t been aware that was eating at his insides until it was three days too late. Dream immediately dug into the meal, finishing it in only a couple of minutes in comparison to the man who was eating slowly across him. He felt a tinge of embarrassment, ears going red as he ducked his head. 

The man still hadn’t reacted, finishing his meal shortly after and setting his plate on top of Dream’s. At this point, the teen was convinced that he was waiting for him to make the first move. He cleared his throat quietly as the man moved to the sink, setting the plates down and turning on the faucet. 

“Who- Who are you?” Dream asked, voice slightly hoarse and pitching slightly out of disuse. The man paused in his cleaning, looking to the side. 

“Techno,” He replied, voice monotone as he did. Dream nodded almost automatically, hands curling into fists as he bounced his leg absently. Was that all he was getting as an introduction, or was there more to come? After a couple of minutes, Dream continued with a slight stammer. 

“Why did you… help me? Did I come to your home through the nether portal by accident? I didn’t mean to, I could just go if you wanted to.” Dream said voice firm as he tried to keep himself confident. Techno didn’t seem to react to the breaks in his sentence, continuing to clean the plates. 

“The nether portal doesn’t matter. Your leg is hurt. If you leave now, it’ll probably get worse, and I’m sure that you wouldn’t want that to follow you for the next couple of years, decade, maybe, if you’re unlucky.” Dream frowned at the words, eyes narrowing as he looked up at the man. 

“Are you just keeping me here, then?” He asked. Techno blinked at him, setting his plates in the drying rack next to the sink. 

  
  


“I wouldn’t do that. It’s just advisable that you heal first.” Techno’s voice never lost the familiar monotone, but the words themselves weren’t unkind. It made a bit of sense, really, as much as he wanted to pretend that the stranger hadn’t wanted to help. There was an aura that he couldn’t ignore, whether it was woven into the walls of the home or surrounding the man himself. It was a light blue if he could describe the feeling in colours. There weren’t really any words that could describe it properly. 

“Besides,” His voice cut in again. “Your axe is damaged. It’ll take a while to fix. You wouldn’t want to leave it behind, yes?” 

Dream found himself nodding once, lips tightening as he rested his head on his hands with his elbows set on the table. Techno nodded in reply, moving to the windows to pull out a small watering can made of what looked like wood that had been painted blue. He filled it with water to the top, turning back to Dream after a moment. “Where is it, by the way?” 

“In my room, at the moment. I’ll be fixing up the enchantments, they’ve been weakened over time. I’m guessing you’ve had it for a while?” With a hesitant nod, Techno hummed. “I thought so. You can rest in the room you woke up in. If you’d like, you can look around, but it’d be wise for you not to put too much pressure on your leg.” With those parting words, Techno moved to the first plant on the ceiling, reaching up to water it slowly. 

Dream blinked, watching him for a few more minutes before shaking his head a little as the odd man continued his task. Techno was nothing like anyone he had met before, and such was further confirmed after he took his cap off, revealing soft pink hair that tumbled down to his shoulders. 

“I’ll call you for dinner,” Techno added, moving to the hallway as he continued watering his plants. Dream hummed in agreement. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope this first chapter lived up to ur expectations. im not 100% sure that this is up to par, since i wanted to get at least 6k words in but it just wasn't coming to me :( please feel free to leave comments, i read all of them and appreciate them as well!!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! i hope you enjoyed reading my first work for this fandom, and if you subscribed to me for my other works and made it this far, i hope i could introduce you to something new :-) please feel free to comment on this <3


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